Arequipa, a jewel set in the wide valleys of southern Peru Andean plateau, is known from the Peruvians as the white city. A quiet and hospitable city, where to acclimatize before the rise in remote parts of the Andes. The drown tops of three volcanoes brush the city, the misti (gentleman, with its perfectly conical shape), the Chachani (beloved) and Picchu Picchu (high high) in the Quechua language. In the basement at the Convent of Santa Catalina, in an eternal embrace, lies the mummy of a girl (nicknamed Juanita, or Inca ice maiden) sacrificed in a ritual at Mount Ampato by the Incas 500 years ago. The encounter with a “viejo loco”, as he introduced himself, gives us a glimpse of Latin America, sitting in a tiny square of Arequipa, under the shade of some orange trees in bloom, we begin a long conversation on the life and traditions of the Andes and Arequipa. He traveled widely as a young man, being a street artist, and his memories are still bright. We discussed the magical combination of moods, colors, flavors, music and experiences that brings the traveler in his pilgrimage. In Arequipa it’s easy to meet lots of people, also because the climate is very hospitable. We receive an invitation to the home of a boy, out of town. We get to know their grandparents, who take care of alfalfa and corn fields and prepare for us a rich and delicious lunch accompanied by abundant traditional chicha, a fermented drink produced from corn. Sitting around the fire we eat and listen with interest the story of their lives, amid joys and sacrifices. After lunch, we learn the basics needed to play the Quena, the typical flute used in Andean music.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Cotopaxi National Park
• Baños hot springs
• Through the window Brazil, Argentina, Chile
• Medellin, Botero and Pablo Escobar
• Last shamans of the Amazon

Beyond the Valley of Azapa endless stretch the Andean highlands, where the desert becomes a spectacular red livery. It seems to land on Mars. On a fifty years old chevrolet car, we follow a faint-track in this inhospitable land in the direction of Putre, the town that serves as a starting point for visits to Lauca National Park and the ascent to the volcano Taapaca. In this portion of the plateau, the nature shows all its magnificence and hardness. Scattered groups of vicunas escape hopping as soon as they hear the noise of the car approaching. The wind whips the faces of the natives who, consumed by the sun and altitude, are covered in a last attempt at defense. The link between earth and sky has always been part of the cosmogony of the Andean peoples, inevitable is the attraction to these mountains and the altitude of the plateau caused to civilizations that lived in these places. Still this yearning for the infinite is well represented by the presence on the andean highlands of several research centers using large telescopes for the observation of space and celestial bodies. Examples are the Panaral Observatory, Cerro Pachon and Las Campanans observatory. In exceptional years, the rare rains return to wet lands of the arid Atacama desert, causing an explosion of nature to appear in the form of endless expanse of green lawns and bright flowers, of which many insects feast insatiable. They perfectly know that the desert gives little time to abundance.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Arica and Azapa valley
• Where the atacama desert begins
• Saint Lawrence, patron of the miners
• Cotopaxi National Park
• Baños hot springs

Arica is the northernmost seaport of Chile, a few kilometers from the border with Peru. Like all places at the border, the entire city is a huge market where goods are exchanged and where people argue passionately about the prices of agricultural products and textiles, surrounded by the pleasant smell of typical Andean food: empanadas, chicharrones and rocotos rellenos. A colorful and friendly crowd that accompanies the life of this bustling community. A few kilometers from Arica, inward and towards the Atacama desert, lies a green jewel, an oasis of palm, fruit and olive trees that unexpectedly grows on the sides of a small seasonal river, the San Jose. The special climate of this valley, that is called the Valley of Azapa, allows the cultivation of various fruits, vegetables and palm trees and the famous Azapa olives, typically purple colored, enabling the production of a special oil. Thanks to these special and favorable climatic conditions, the Azapa Valley has been inhabited by humans since ancient times. The Archaeological Museum of San Miguel Azapa tells the last 10000 years of history of this land, through the beautiful Tiwanaku dresses found in many cemeteries in the area and through the Chinchorro mummies, curled up in a final infinite reflection. The whole valley is surrounded by hills that were exploited by Andean civilizations as open books to tell their history through representations of rock art (petroglyphs) of extraordinary complexity and size. The Azapa valley is an incredible testimony of wealth and distinction that gives a clear idea of the cultural and religious and scientific knowledge of Andean peoples, from the past until nowadays.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Andean highlands, desert and telescopes
• Where the atacama desert begins
• Saint Lawrence, patron of the miners
• Through the window Brazil, Argentina, Chile
• Santiago de Chile: poetry, recycling, arts

From Antofagasta all roads lead into the heart of the Atacama desert, a trip to a mysterious abyss. Crossing the desert by bus, on foot and partly by bicycle, you come into contact with an incredibly dry earth, a lunar landscape wrought by a tropical and breath taking sun. Even here a few brave people still live, especially because the barren land hides an incredible richness of the subsoil. Along the way are oases of dust and 60 years old american cars, mining towns were abandoned to their infamous faith, swallowed by the sand and the passing of time. Pedro de Valdivia, Maria Elena, and then Quillagua.
The red earth hides, together with the minerals, the countless bodies of those who have come here to die by their own choice (open copper mine of Chuquicamata is the largest in the world), and many by constraint (the Pinochet’s regime jailed in these wastelands dissidents for forced labor). A lasting memory of these tragedies are the graves of Pisagua. The memory of these abuses spread the devotion to Saint Lawrence, considered by Chileans as the patron of the miners and celebrated on August 12 of each year. He hid the material goods of the church under the ground to protect them from the voracity of the Emperor Valerian. Similarly, the Chileans are struggling to maintain control over their natural resources (gold, silver, nickel, molybdenum, sulfur, etc..).
Maria Elena is a town hanging in the wind, the presence of ghosts fills the void of a community hidden underground. Everything disappears in the heat of the afternoon, but even in the evening when the heat loosens its grip, the community does not come alive. The resignation of a life of hardship covered with dusty scrub every house, every object. We stop at a playground where the swings have died of rust and neglect, each mechanism creaks, the children have left these amusements even before their birth.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Where the atacama desert begins
• Arica and Azapa valley
• Andean highlands, desert and telescopes
• Santiago de Chile: poetry, recycling, arts
• Nomadic travel by bicycle

The landscape, a few hours north of Santiago de Chile, slowly begins to change. There appear the first signs of the Atacama Desert, which occupies a huge part of the north of Chile. Chañaral is a town that lies on the Pacific coast where the border between the sea and the desert begins to be clear. Don Hugo was an indefatigable man of the sea, which at maturity has invented an innovative way to survive and at the same time to provide jobs for many of his fellow citizens, just taking advantage of the particular climatic conditions of the Chilean coast. In fact, in Chañaral drought begins to be a problem, but the high temperature range between day and night, the proximity to the ocean and the conformation of the hilly area, make possible that every morning on the city passes a thick blanket of wet fog. Don Hugo has invented a system of sheets that trap moisture and cause it to condense into water. An ingenious system of collection, channeling, and depressurization of the liquid allows to transport the water 800 meters down the hill, where there are some houses and plantations. Each day the system is able to generate about 5000 liters of drinking water. On the night we head to Antofagasta, the last big city before entering the desert, and finally in the region of Chilean mines. Father Hurtado, a well known Jesuit saint, a practical and hard worker man friend of working people and Chilean miners, watches over this underwater world.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Saint Lawrence, patron of the miners
• Arica and Azapa valley
• Andean highlands, desert and telescopes
• Through the window Brazil, Argentina, Chile
• Santiago de Chile: poetry, recycling, arts

The bus station in Santiago of Chile is one of those places where time is suspended between the heat and the coolness of the night. When from any bus appears a new face, this immediately triggers a sudden excitement, typical of those little tricks of daily living. The bus station is always a fork in the journey of endless choices. After a brief consultation to decide whether to continue the travel toward the green and southern Switzerland, toward Concepcion and the legendary University of Bio Bio, toward Puerto Montt and his project of sustainable city (district heating, heat pumps especially from Baumann technology and an innovative composting system for organic waste through the work of earthworms), we decided to turn our eyes toward the north to the Atacama Desert. We leave Santiago slowly, hampered by a colorful procession of malabaristas, street artists who protest against the ban to exercise their art in the streets of downtown Santiago. We meet to party and discuss in the typical Peñas, places where you can listen and dance some cuecas of Violeta Parra and Victor Jara’s ballads, perhaps accompanied by delicious empanadas, pastel de choclo with humitas and Chilean wine. The meeting is for the next day in front of La Moneda, the historic headquarter of the Chilean president. Place where you will find all the protests of the country, a symbol of the military coup that overthrew Allende in 1973 and led to the long dictatorship of Pinochet.

From Valparaiso the Pan-American highway runs fast alongside the Pacific Ocean, the coast is interrupted by infrequent fishing villages, the coast is bent by the majestic power of the ocean. Distant to be seen, Easter Island lies at the mercy of the currents. In the bus we travel with a young Chilean family, a young woman with three small children, all beautiful. We talk about each other’s differences and we think, a gulf seems to divide us, but then we take a break for lunch on the road and they order a large plate of fries, which they call chorillana, with a huge glass of cola. The world nowadays is liquid, perhaps even more than predicted by Bauman at the dawn of the digital age.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Through the window Brazil, Argentina, Chile
• Mazatlan and Mexican friends
• Lima and Manual del Pendejo
• Hermosillo, Mexico
• Guaymas and Bahia de San Carlos

Santiago is named after St. James the Apostle, patron of the city. Born in Bethsaida, was the brother of John the Evangelist and son of Zebedee and Salome. He was with Jesus in the Garden of Olives, and distinguished himself, along with John, for his animosity.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Where the atacama desert begins
• Through the window Brazil, Argentina, Chile
• Santiago de Chile: poetry, recycling, arts
• Curriculum Vitae Biomedical Engineer
• Chile on the road

Santiago de Chile, a small hotel for travelers run by an indigenous Mapuche, skyscrapers and crumbling houses. From the hill overlooking the city, as a kind of ordeal, you can enjoy a 360 degree view of the capital city, long and endless. Sometimes hidden behind the clouds, the Andes are majestic and snow-capped, in the background you can see the white paradise of Tres Valles and Valle Nevado, the ski resorts that are located only 50 kilometers from Santiago de Chile. The bustling center takes attention away from the phenomena of creative and marginalized life of the vast majority of the population. In the north of Santiago is located a huge landfill where most of the waste of the city is collected. The people who live there have earned the nickname of moscas, in the evocative dialect of Chile. They brave daily fortune, rising with great agility on each garbage truck that arrives at the landfill and they recover valuable pieces such as iron, copper, aluminum, bicycles and any material that can then be recycled or sold on the black market. Another example of creative adaptation is represented here by Don Ignacio, an intelligent man of about fifty years, who completely dedicated to retrieve pieces of wood, glass and metal at the landfill over the last twenty ones. His only goal, brilliantly achieved, was to build a abusive house with the scraps, equipped with every comfort and a strong and personal sense of aesthetics. The city is alive and looks at arts and poetry. The birth of the murales in Chile as a mass phenomenon, dates back to the 1969, at the time of protests against the Vietnam war, From the port of Valparaíso to Santiago de Chile, a few guys repainted the entire pathway of the protests by stopping at each rock along the road  with an old Jeep. The Chilean group of murales is called the brigadas Ramona Parra and was born with the aim of achieving the candidacy of Salvador Allende in the propaganda of 1970. The urban murales are made of symbols and letters. The dove, hands, ears, the stars were a new language that has long been popular in the underground of the night.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Where the atacama desert begins
• Through the window Brazil, Argentina, Chile
• Saint Lawrence, patron of the miners
• Travel, the landing place
• Time bank in Santiago de Chile

Santiago de Chile looks like a long strip that stretches from north to south, sometimes unformed, a small copy of the entire Chile, with its characteristic threadlike shape. So deeply varied and contradictory. Santiago is alive and pulsating.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Chile on the road
• Where the atacama desert begins
• Santiago de Chile: poetry, recycling, arts
• Medellin, Botero and Pablo Escobar
• Mazatlan and Mexican friends

From Casablanca the highway goes fast towards Marrakech, we sleep along the way, only the hot sun beams wake us up, telling us we are back to the imperial city and the big Moroccan south. A final warm greeting to Djemaa el Fna square and to this chaotic and friendly microcosm.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Marrakech, crossroads of Africa
• Marrakech, imperial city
• Tizi’n Tichka towards Ourzazate
• Ouarzazate and Casbah of Telouet

The few villages give way to extensive pine forests and plantations (many of those kif), we are surprised by the contrast between this lush landscape and the desert we left a few days ago. The atmosphere is one of frontier and past. The night is already coming when we see the sinuous shape of Chefchaouen, Chaouen for its residents, the blue village for tourists. An eccentric musician, philosopher and traveler, Maurice Toulouse known on the road, recommended us the Hotel Goa and there we go with quick walk, accompanied by the usual shadow of Mustafa. We spend a whole day getting lost in the maze of alleyways that make up the Medina. The atmosphere is unique, all the houses are plastered with amazing blue tones. They say to keep away the flies during the summer heatwave. The visual result is brilliant and we are fascinated by this town. We spend the evening in Chefchaouen, together with Mohammed and Abdel Rahim, two friends of Goa.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Zacatecas
• Yucatan: from the highlands to caribe
• Washington DC
• Volunteering in Guatemala
• Vilcabamba, the eternal youth

The rain forces us on the road. After a long bargaining with taxi drivers in Saidia, we get a passage to Nador, a very busy port near Melilla, one of two Spanish enclaves on Moroccan territory. Along the way we look incredulous at the results of massive speculation, which affects part of the Mediterranean coast near Saidia: European property developers are building hundreds of terraced houses, according to a now well known scheme. When this sea of concrete is finished, our eyes can enjoy a magnificent Mediterranean landscape, where the low forest that blends wearily to steep cliffs suddenly gives way to sandy beaches and turquoise sea. The road is short from Nador to Al Hoceima, a cliff above the blue sea, an outpost of the Rif mountains.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Saidia, Mediterranean sea
• Zacatecas
• Yucatan: from the highlands to caribe
• Washington DC
• Volunteering in Guatemala

Saidia, the eastern Mediterranean Moroccan beach, just a few steps from the Algerian border.
Some clouds leave us worried, but the sandy beach and emerald waves invite us to take a long walk. Soon comes the night and the whole crowd of Moroccan tourists disappears, there are only curious gulls observing us. We sit at a bar near the beach drinking a mint tea and we immediately know Mimon, which tells us that he spent his life between the Spanish and Moroccan coasts, beyond the Mediterranean Sea, carrying the precious kif.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Al Hoceima, ancient rock
• Sahara and Atlas, towards north
• Chefchaouen, the blue village

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Tizi’n Tichka towards Ourzazate
• Merzouga, Sahara dunes
• Tinghir and Dades Valley
• Tinghir and Berber people
• Saidia, Mediterranean sea

The cool morning breeze that emanates from the palm grove wakes us up earlier than expected. Backpacks on shoulder, we leave from Tinghir and arrive in a few hours by bus to Erfoud, a small and crowded village, from where we soon move to Rissani and then take a taxi to Merzouga. We are welcomed in the hotel of Nazihr’s cousin, the beautiful view beams directly on the golden sand dunes of Erg Chebbi. We are full of energy, despite the scorching sun, and we look forward to Nadir, a boy of Berber origin who will guide us in the desert with Bob Marley and Jimi Hendrix, two beautiful camels.
At sunset we reach the highest dune, the Erg, where we enjoy a breathtaking view. A long descent in the fine sand brings us to the tent where we spend the night. We eat a tasty tajin with hariri, sing and play guitar. In our happy loneliness, we observe the stunned silence of the stars dancing around the moon. We sleep under this velvet blanket until dawn.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Tizi’n Tichka towards Ourzazate
• Tinghir and Dades Valley
• Sahara and Atlas, towards north
• Tinghir and Berber people
• Ouarzazate and Casbah of Telouet

In the evening, upon leaving our backpacks at Tombouctu hotel, we go out to discover the suq. As frequently happens, we find a new friend, Nazihr: a really nice guy, who tells us about Tinghir and the origin of its peoples, the nomadic Berbers. The next day we go with him to the Todra Gorge, a massive rock formation, up to 350 meters high, from which numerous springs of clear water flow, feeding the palm of Tinghir.
Going beyond the gorge, we clamber up a steep path, which follows the arid slopes of the mountains, foothills of the Atlas towards the desert… Nazihr guides us where we can enjoy a breathtaking view over the valley of Dades. We get to a camp of nomadic Berbers: people still live in simple tents to shelter from the sun during the day and in natural caves to protect from the cold of the night. A woman, confirming the hospitality of this people, prepares a tea of thyme, while her children Lazhen and Youssef play with us and the goats; more distant, her eldest daughter, not married yet, show us timidly the carpet she is weaving for her marriage together with the grandmother.
Then comes the night and, walking in the shadow of the ancient medina of Tinghir, we perceive the presence of ghosts coming from a distant and lost world: they are Berber men, women and children who left the hard life of the mountains, to disappear in the chaos of the city. Their spirits still roam desperate, in memory of their past nomadic life.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Marrakech, imperial city
• Tizi’n Tichka towards Ourzazate
• Tinghir and Dades Valley
• Ouarzazate and Casbah of Telouet
• Marrakech, crossroads of Africa

There are moments in a journey in which consciousness is suspended, giving way to the cool morning breeze. In front of the bus station of Ouarzazate stands a fine powder, indicating the way to the Sahara Desert. Silently, we hear the cries of taxi drivers, waiting that they pronounce the name of our next destination, according to a ritual that is repeated from years. Other people appear from nowhere and they seem to be interested in moving to Tinghir along the Dades Valley.
Our Mercedes, a copy of the last century beautifully decked out in tinsel and purple advertising stickers, does not betray his nine hundred thousand kilometers traveled in extreme climatic conditions and, cleverly manipulated by the driver, proceed to tear down the strip of asphalt that is immersed in the arid landscapes of the Dades Valley. Temperature forces us to frequent stops, in the attempt to draw water from numerous wells and deep groundwater. Sudden green corners above tiny shops, where they sell rose water.
Finally, it unfolds by our eyes the glittering green strip of Tinghir palm garden, we are greeted by the smiling face of Youssef, who offers us a Berber tea.

Travel tip: overnight in the charming hotel Tombouctu (near the bus station), built on the ruins of a kasbah.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Tizi’n Tichka towards Ourzazate
• Merzouga, Sahara dunes
• Tinghir and Berber people
• Ouarzazate and Casbah of Telouet
• Zacatecas

The starry night, pursued by a multitude of souls who find peace only at the edge of the dusty roads, finally gave way to a warm and quivering dawn. We follow the foothills of the Atlas back in the direction of Marrakech, but just before the Tizi’n Tichka pass we turn right along a small trace of dust, which is the ancient salt trail, where caravans used to pass through along the way to Marrakech, or towards the mystery of Timbuktu.
The smiling and tired faces of the peasants, followed by the playful screams of children, tell us of a world flowing with the ancient rhythms of the seasons, with no worries but always in balance between simplicity and deprivation. The place is beautiful, the colors are warm and lively as an impressionist painting. We’re fascinated. At the end of our journey, we get finally to Telouet, village of Glaoui and home to a salt mine. We visit the Casbah, which immediately we rename “the storks”, accompanied by the friendly guide Mohammed, then we rest at the nearby restaurant, where we can enjoy the intense flavors of the Berber cuisine and enjoy a bucolic landscape.

Suddenly the phone rings. We are doing lunch with Lahcen, with green tea and pistachios, he is telling us of his aspiration to travel the world and meet people far away, we think of the curiosity of Moroccan people and how this unites us, making our discussions more and more exciting and passionate.
On the other side of the receiver an anxious Brahim, who meanwhile headed towards Zagora, a few hours by bus to Ouarzazate, to meet his family. His distant voice: “Salam friend, we have a problem … you and the girl should leave the house immediately, because my cousin arrives and if he sees her, he will make a big casino.” A moment of silence, then I think of the privilege and the emotions that we felt during the two days spent together: this is the best gift that they could make us; we thank everyone, we gather our few things and we are ready to go.
Morocco of a thousand contrasts and contradictions, it is 10pm and we have to find a hotel for the night. One more night in Ouarzazate.

Travel tip: relax yourself on the terrace of restaurant Lion d’Or in Telouet, enjoying the delicious Berber cuisine (tagine, cous cous).

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Tizi’n Tichka towards Ourzazate
• Marrakech, imperial city
• Tinghir and Dades Valley
• Tinghir and Berber people
• Marrakech, crossroads of Africa

We walk towards the gare routiere, and invariably we are involved in the confusion pre-departure. As soon as we cross the threshold of the station, a swarm of young men in leather jackets, beggars, barefoot children and alleged long-time travelers gets around us. The cries are more and more lively and playful, then become nervous indicating a certain dissatisfaction with the deal which does not go on smoothly. In a few seconds, upon pronouncing the magic word (Ouarzazate), we find ourselves gently pushed towards a rickety bus, decked out in a multitude of gold and red colored ribbons and spangles. We finally felt at home. Now starts the bargaining for the price and the best seats. 30, 25, 20, the price goes down and down the claims: back seats of the bus and seats upholstered in dusty hair sheep.

We walk towards the bus station, and we are inevitably involved in the pre-departure hustle… finally the bus leaves, towards the desert, but we must now face the Atlas: dense pine forests, extensive golden wheat crops and quiet Berber villages, a brief stop in Taddert for lunch. We overcome the Tizi’n Tichka (2500 meters of altitude), which in Tamazight language means “pass of the pastures”. The hot and dry air announces the desert, the Sahara. In the journey, we meet Brahim, a sympathetic Moroccan who works in Bergamo; with him we make the first steps in the more authentic Morocco. He invites us to his cousin’s house when we arrive at Ouarzazate, we talk and he gives us something to eat, we understand that there is much to share and the possibility of establishing a truly warm relationship. We spend a pleasant day with Brahim and the three brothers (Lahcen is the only one who understands English), it is a pity not to speak French, but we can understand each other with Spanish and we try to learn the first words in Arabic (Shukran, naan/la, inshallah, salam/salem). They continue to offer their hospitality, in form of mint tea, pleasant chats and delicious snacks. We understand that mutual curiosity is not always enough to brake the cultural “wall” that separates us: we cannot merge our relativism with their way of thinking linked to Muslim culture. Even from children, lives of men and women are separated. For men it is given the privilege of choice, while for women the fate will always be indelibly marked by the teachings of the mother and the wish of the father and then of the husband.
During the night, upon having enjoyed a delicious tajine of lamb cooked with our new friends, we make a long trek up to the casbah of Taourirt, all together. The full moon creates a dream, it seems to animate the casbah and relive the times of its glory, when it was one of the residences of Glaoui, the pacha of Marrakech. Ourzazate, which is located where the Valleys of Draa and Dades meet, introduces to the first seeings of the Sahara Desert. The city is quite modern (it was founded by the French in the 20s), and it is still a place of transit along the routes of traders and tourists that, from Marrakech, lead to the desert borders of Zagora and Merzouga. The climate is tempered by its altitude which exceeds 1.100 meters.

Travel tip: sit down in a bar of the city center to enjoy a tasteful mint tea, skillfully served from the teapot, in order to release all its flavour.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Ouarzazate and Casbah of Telouet
• Marrakech, imperial city
• Tinghir and Dades Valley
• Sahara and Atlas, towards north
• Merzouga, Sahara dunes

Marrakesh is one of the four Moroccan imperial cities and its suq, which extends into the heart of the ancient city (Medina), is one of the most lively in North Africa. Nouns, banners or showcases do not exist. Everything you can see, it is on sale. In the suq, the merchant shows a different behavior with each customer. It develops all around Djemaa el Fna Square, where sales men and artists meet: musicians, orators, prostheses sellers, dentists, snake charmers… But Marrakesh is unforgettable for its fragrances, craftsmen, dyers who wash skins in the stone pits, smiths and the other thousands of magical figures who populate and make unique this African and deeply Arabic-Maghreb city.

The history of the region around Marrakech is linked to the Berber population. Present on the African territory from thousands of years, these people still have a mysterious origin, though it is thought they come from Caucasus. In Roman times, these “men of the earth” had already established the Kingdom of Mauritania, whose borders reached the Mediterranean sea. After the fall of the Roman Empire, they began to grow, up to lead their warriors to the conquest of Spain, bringing Islam to Europe. The imperial city of Marrakech was founded in 1062 by Sultan Ben Youssef Tachfine, who built the defensive walls that surround the city. Extended up to 19 km during the dynasties of Almohades and Saadians these city walls vary from pink to red and are interrupted by 200 square towers (borjs) and nine monumental gates. The prosperity of Marrakech made it the capital of an empire that stretched from Algiers and the Mediterranean to Senegal and the Atlantic ocean.

After 400 years of Berber dynasties, the descendants of indigenous Atlas tribes (the Almoravids, Almohads and Merinides, who reigned until 1465), the sixteenth century saw the advent of the Arab rulers. The Saadians (1554-1603) united Morocco, while in 1659 came to power the Aluites (1672-1727 reigned the Sultan Moulay Ismail), which are still in power in Morocco. One of the most remarkable monuments of Marrakech belonging to this historical Moroccan period is located in the casbah (Qasba). Located in a small garden, the tomb of the Saadian dynasty, dating back to the sixteenth century, are among the best examples of Islamic art, especially the elaborate gypsum decorations and cedar ceilings of the mausoleum.

Travel tip: sit down in a kiosk in Djemaa el Fna Square to enjoy meat, fish, couscous, heads of mutton, snails or kebabs every night from 6pm.

Share/Bookmark/Print/Email

• Tizi’n Tichka towards Ourzazate
• Marrakech, crossroads of Africa
• Tinghir and Berber people
• Ouarzazate and Casbah of Telouet
• Back to Marrakech